Charlotte watched Charle looking totally crushed. Her paw twitched up like she wanted to comfort her, but it shook a couple times before she gently lowered it.
She took a deep breath and kept going as calmly as she could:
"A few years ago, a terrifying vision of Edolas popped into my head."
"All the floating islands—like they lost their support—came crashing down from the sky, smashing into the ground."
"Floating islands—crashing?!" Bad-girl Lucy's face went dead serious, voice shaking with fear. "No way! The islands are the core of Edolas's magic circulation—if all of them fell, that means—"
Her pupils shrank to pinpricks. She forced out the horrifying conclusion: "Edolas's magic… would completely disappear?!"
"Yes—" Charlotte nodded, heavy and helpless.
"That's exactly why, terrified of a future that could destroy the world and desperate to preserve our race, we made the call."
"We gathered every unborn child in the clan and secretly sent them through the 'Anima' portal to your world—Earth Land, overflowing with magic."
"At least that way… we could keep a spark of hope and a future for the Exceeds."
"And recently—" Charlotte's gaze locked on Roger again, a strange certainty in her eyes.
"New visions kept flashing in my mind."
"In one, a black-haired young man pilots a pure-white, angelic mech and defeats Dorma Anim."
"He also leads us to a lush, thriving forest and gives us a strange dragon-shaped disk."
"Under that disk's protection, our entire race… could live free from conflict, safe and prosperous."
Lucy's mouth twitched. "(=_=) Dragon… shaped… don't tell me—that's another one of Daphne's inventions?"
Lisanna's face lit up with realization. "That young man's gotta be Roger-bro!"
"So that's why you risked exposing your clan's secrets and came to us now—spilling everything."
"Exactly," Charlotte confirmed with a soft nod.
"When Dorma Anim activated, the earth and sky roared. The sky turned pitch-black with ominous energy, and Edolas's magic density… dropped by half in an instant!"
Her voice trembled with lingering fear. "Feeling that prophecy play out in real time convinced us—the pivotal events deciding the world's fate had begun."
She stepped forward, dropped to one knee before Roger, right paw on her bent knee, voice low and pleading:
"Please… help the Exceed race."
(A peaceful life—) Roger raised an eyebrow, mind racing.
(Earth Land's got tons of naturally magic-born beasts. The Exceeds moving there wouldn't stick out ecologically.)
(As for that dragon disk—) After a few seconds, he pulled an item from his system inventory.
A palm-sized disk, neither metal nor wood, etched with intricate bagua patterns. The whole thing was shaped like a coiled Eastern dragon!
"This is something Daphne shoved at me a while back—a new invention."
Roger explained, "She called it a portable composite magic array disk."
"Activate it, and it creates a wide-area illusion field. Anyone who enters without permission gets lost—perfect for protecting the core zone from invaders."
"It also slightly gathers ambient natural magic, boosting concentration inside the field. That speeds up plant growth and makes food plentiful."
"But—" Roger glanced at Charlotte, whose face was already glowing with excitement, and shifted gears to the catch.
"There's a pretty annoying side effect."
"Anyone in range—permanent residents or random intruders—loses their sense of direction for a while. Total road idiots. Can't tell east from west."
"So it's best deep in some remote forest."
"Safety's top-notch, but it basically means… cutting off from the outside world. No easy contact with outsiders."
"How long is 'a while'?" Wendy asked curiously.
"Not sure." Roger shook his head. "Daphne tested it on lab rats. Based on her data, the disorientation fades after about three months."
"No problem!" Charlotte practically vibrated with joy. "Exceeds don't track time like humans—three months feels like three days to us!"
"Our clan's always lived in tight-knit groups, barely interacting with outsiders."
"As long as everyone's fed, clothed, and safe, skipping outside contact for a bit is fine!"
Roger caught Mystogan's subtle nod from afar, then looked back at Charlotte and decided:
"Alright. Once everything here's wrapped up, I'll come get you and safely move your whole clan to Earth Land. Magic there's way richer than here."
"If you're cool with temporary road-idiot syndrome, this dragon disk will give you a secure, food-rich home and the peaceful life you want."
"Y-yes! Thank you so much!" Charlotte clutched her face with her paws, head bobbing like a pecking chick.
Even the five stern old cats behind her finally cracked relieved, happy smiles.
She carefully wiped joyful tears from her eyes, then looked at the still-sulky Charle with a mix of nerves and hope.
"If… if you ever feel like it, you're always welcome in Extalia. You'll forever be the Exceeds' most honored friends."
"Oh ho~" Cana crouched down, poked Charle's back with a finger, and grinned mischievously. "Her Majesty's watching you, little prophecy-powered Charle-chan~"
"Don't you dare stick '-chan' on my name!" Charle's fur puffed up in rage.
But when her eyes met Charlotte's warm, accepting gaze, her cheeks flushed pink. She jerked her head away and muttered in a mosquito whine:
"Hmph—if… if I ever have time… I guess I could visit…"
Realizing she sounded too soft, she grabbed Wendy's sleeve in a panic and blurted, "I-I train with Wendy every day! Super busy! It's not like it means anything special!"
"D-don't any of you get the wrong idea!"
Mira covered her mouth, giggling at Charle's textbook tsundere meltdown. "Aww~ Classic tsundere. Adorable."
"Who's tsundere?!" Charle's face went beet-red. She hissed at Mira like an angry kitten—zero intimidation.
Queen Charlotte watched their easy, happy banter, a genuine warm smile spreading across her face.
She bowed slightly. "We need to hurry back to Extalia and tell the clan about the new world and future plans."
"Please allow us to take our leave."
After polite goodbyes, the five old cats carefully supported Charlotte. They flapped their wings and rose slowly into the sky, fading from sight.
Roger walked over to Mystogan, who'd been waiting quietly with something to say.
He'd barely stopped when Mystogan spoke, voice low and resolute:
"Roger, I've decided."
"I'm going to reverse Anima and transfer all remaining magic in Edolas… to Earth Land."
"Transfer—all of it?" Roger's face turned serious. He locked eyes with Mystogan. "You sure about this? This is huge."
"Have you thought about the fallout? If magic vanishes completely from Edolas, this world resets to primitive."
"People will have to relearn fire-starting with sticks, carry water from rivers by hand. All magic tech becomes scrap metal—"
His tone carried a warning. "And the people here just went through the Royal Army's defeat and the capital's upheaval."
"If magic dries up now—the panic will be catastrophic."
Roger pulled a few softly glowing magic crystals from his inventory and offered them.
"I've got these. Super energy-dense."
"At least use them to refill what 'Dragon Knight' burned, slow the depletion, give people time to adapt."
Mystogan glanced at the crystals—gratitude flickered in his eyes—but he shook his head firmly.
"Thanks, Roger, but no."
"Limited magic just breeds endless fighting and war."
His gaze swept the ruined capital, voice weary yet decisive. "Even if these crystals bought decades—maybe a century—what then?"
"As long as magic's a scarce resource, as long as greed and fear live in people's hearts, the same tragedies will repeat."
"Nations, factions—they'll fight bloodier wars for the last scraps."
"Better to rip off the bandage now than let the world bleed out in slow despair."
"Long pain… is worse than short pain."
"And—" Mystogan's tone softened, a shy edge creeping in.
"It doesn't have to start that primitive."
He scratched his cheek, coughed lightly, and pulled a book from an inner pocket.
"I kill time between guild jobs reading in the library corner."
"Not my usual genre, but it's fascinating. I've skimmed over a hundred of these."
He handed the book to Roger. "The knowledge in here sparked the idea to reverse Anima."
Roger's brows shot up in surprise, but it did fit Mystogan's vibe.
He took the book and read the cover, smirking. "Encyclopedia of Everyday Science?"
"Yeah, no one in the guild except Daphne and Levy touches these. You read this stuff a lot?"
"Mm," Mystogan nodded. Talking about his passion loosened him up. "It's fun. Describes tons of handy tools that work without magic."
"Like boxes that make fire from nothing, or 'light bulbs' that glow at night."
He added, "I also dipped into… uh, some Marxism-related books."
"In my spare time these past years, I've grasped mechanical principles that run without magic and even built working prototypes."
As he spoke, he pulled a matchbox-sized rectangular metal gadget from his left pocket.
He flipped the lid with his thumb, then spun a tiny gear on top with his finger.
Click.
A small red flame danced up from the top.
"This… I think the book called it a 'lighter'?" Mystogan said, unsure.
"Lighter!" Roger blurted, amazed. He took the warm little device and flicked the gear a few times—flame every time.
Aside from the gear instead of a button, it worked exactly like a modern lighter.
"You hand-crafted a lighter?!" He shook it—no liquid slosh inside.
"How?"
Mystogan, prepared, pulled out another lighter, popped the shell in a few moves, and pointed to black cotton inside.
"Shell and gear were pre-made."
"Northwest Edolas has a fruit with black flammable oil. Remote area, low magic trade—locals have used it for fire forever."
"I soaked the cotton in refined oil. Gear friction ignites it."
Roger stared at the clever little invention, inwardly awed.
No wonder original-story Mystogan hit S-Class with just magic items—this guy's talent and hands-on skill are insane.
He chuckled, tone full of praise. "Sounds like you've got the future all mapped out. So—when do you start reversing Anima?"
"After." Mystogan looked at Roger, lips twitching like he was struggling to say something. He coughed into his fist, voice low and a bit embarrassed. "Actually… there's one more thing I need your help with."
Seeing that rare, awkward look, Roger couldn't help but grin.
Mystogan was a lone wolf—asking for help probably took serious guts.
He clapped a hand on Mystogan's shoulder, smile wide and easy. "Relax, man. Same guild, same family. Just say it—no need to be shy."
"Mm." Mystogan scratched the back of his neck, smiled faintly, tension easing. "I've got daily-life tools mostly covered, but losing magic suddenly… people's spirits might break."
"So I want to ask you—play 'god' for a day. Give them the confidence and courage to keep going."